A Good Punch Line Makes All the Difference
by DeniseV
Summary: My sister the school teacher has deemed this The Year of the Joke. Every class starts with a joke. I can work with any idea. Rodney and John, a little Carson. Slash approaching the punch line.


**THE SET-UP**

"Okay, McKay, here we go."

"Aw, come on," Dr. Rodney McKay whined as he typed furiously on his notebook. "Busy here."

"Nah, you know what they say. 'All work and no play makes genius Canadian astrophysicists dull boys.'" John's eyebrows rose, perplexed at his pretty bad wordplay.

"Nice paraphrasing." McKay tossed the back-handed compliment as he grabbed a bite of his power bar. It was obvious from the mess on the desk that power bars had been the scientist's only source of sustenance for quite some time. Either that, or McKay desperately needed maid service.

"Listen to this one. It's short. And you'll like it, it's science-related."

Rodney continued to type but answered in an annoyed tone of voice, "So, what you're saying is that if the subject has nothing to do with science I couldn't have any possible interest in it? That's very, surprisingly condescending of you. The fact that you actually managed to condescend to me, well, I guess I have to give you points for that," he added blithely at the end.

"So, you'll listen to my joke?" Sheppard asked. The only thing missing was John Sheppard sitting on his haunches, his wagging tail only stopped in order to help with the balancing act.

Whoa! Rodney really couldn't think about that right now. John, haunches, tail – yeah, he wouldn't be getting much work done if he didn't get that picture out of his head right quick.

"McKay?"

"Hm? Oh. Yes, go ahead," Rodney answered, keeping his head down, for safety's sake, because he really didn't need to project any of those thoughts to the colonel, as well as the smallest, little bit of hope that the disinterested body language would give his friend a hint about his true interest in listening to the joke. "But just one," he warned, his finger rising in the air so that Sheppard standing behind him couldn't miss it.

The silence stretched uncomfortably before McKay finally said, "Are you going to start?"

"Jokes are funnier when the joker has the undivided attention of the jokee," John admonished.

Rodney shook his head and then twirled his chair around. Ugh. That didn't feel good.

"You know that 'jokee' is not a word," McKay said, ignoring the sudden feeling of lightheadedness, and then added softly, as though not really trying to say it quiet enough for Sheppard not to hear, "You sure got the joker part right."

John frowned and then cocked his head at the good-natured slight. Then a brilliant smile lit his face and he asked, "Ready?"

Rodney thought, 'this man is going to be the death of me and my Nobel Prize'.

"Please," he said instead.

"Cool," John said excitedly. He stepped back a few paces and added, "You wouldn't be this close if I was on stage."

Rodney rolled his eyes dramatically and waved his hand to encourage Sheppard to speed up. Ugh. That didn't feel good, either. He placed his hand down, harder than he'd planned, on the desk. The colonel looked up from this notes.

"What?"

"What, what?" Rodney asked in an attempt to hide his dizziness from his friend. Right now, even the conversation was making him nauseous.

"Oh, nothing. Ready?"

"Yes," though he was feeling like unless this was a really short joke that he might not be making it to the end.

John began:

_The teacher of the Earth science class was lecturing on map reading. He spent the class explaining about latitude, longitude, degrees and minutes. Towards the end of the class the teacher asked his students, 'Suppose I asked you to meet me for lunch at 23 degrees, 4 minutes north latitude and 45 degrees, 15 minutes east longitude…' A student's voice broke through the confused silence and volunteered, 'I guess you'd be eating alone, sir.'_

John waited for a reaction. McKay seemed to smile, though Sheppard was finding it hard to tell. He definitely wasn't laughing. Moments passed, uncomfortable moments for the would-be comedian. Finally John said dejectedly, "You didn't think it was funny."

Rodney took a deep breath, closing his eyes at the same time. Ugh. That didn't feel good. He opened his eyes and held on tighter to the desk, though it was a little awkward since the desk was behind him. He answered, "No, it was okay. Not great. You'll probably want to practice some others for your debut. You were planning on taking this on the road, I assume?"

Sheppard walked toward the scientist as Rodney rose from his seat. "I was hoping to maybe make my debut at The Comedy Club in L.A." The colonel arrived just as McKay started heading ungainly toward the floor. John caught him and held him steady, propping him up against the desk.

"What's goin' on, Rodney?"

McKay waved his hand about his head. "I'm," he swallowed distastefully before continuing, "feeling a little lightheaded."

"Sit," John instructed.

"Okay," Rodney agreed without argument.

"When," Sheppard asked, looking at all of the discarded power bar wrappers, "did you last eat?"

Rodney took a deep breath and let it out quickly, and then another, and another. "Trash can," he pleaded. John grabbed it quickly and held it while Rodney vomited the small taste of power bar that he'd been chewing earlier, quite a bit of liquid, coffee probably a significant amount of that mix, and what looked like a decent-sized lunch. He made a face at the mess but stayed right at McKay's side.

"Done?" John asked, rubbing Rodney's neck. McKay nodded slightly, breathing uneven and unpleasant from his recent exertions. "So, when and what did you eat last?"

McKay looked in the trash, surprised to see…all that. "Don't remember," he answered. "Lunch probably. Been working all day except to stop to eat. Right," he shook his finger at John for emphasis, "it was lunch," he added. "I think."

John tapped his radio. "Dr. Beckett, are you available?"

"You don't need to call Carson," Rodney said meekly.

"Aye. Go ahead, Colonel."

"Something's wrong with Rodney. He might be having a reaction, can't tell if it's hypoglycemic or not," Sheppard told him.

"It didn't feel…" Rodney started. John stopped him with a 'Sssh' and a finger to his own lips as he listened to Carson's questions. "I ate," Rodney whispered obediently as he pointed to the evidence.

"He said he felt lightheaded and then he threw up. Says he's not sure when he last ate."

"I didn't say that, exactly."

"I saw him chewing on a power bar a couple of minutes ago," John added into the comm.

"It doesn't sound like hypoglycemia. It could be any number of things. Can you get him to take another bite or two of the power bar and then bring him down here?" Carson asked.

Sheppard turned to McKay. "He wants you to try some more power bar and then go see him."

"I…I don't think it's low blood sugar. I don't feel very good. Can we just go now?" Rodney asked plaintively.

"You're not too dizzy to walk it?"

"You'll help me." It was a statement of fact, not a request or a demand.

"Sure I will. I can practice another joke on you."

"Wait! Trash can," Rodney said, snapping his fingers toward the receptacle for emphasis.

"Oh, very funny. My delivery's not that bad."

"Stop," Rodney started but rushed passed John and heaved into the trash can again.

"Yuck," Sheppard said.

**TIMING IS EVERYTHING**

"I'll have to tell this one again when Rodney wakes up. This one kind of could happen out here, when you consider some of the other stuff we've encountered."

"You're quite a natural at this, Colonel," Carson said, smiling widely in anticipation of the next joke.

"Oh geez," McKay croaked. "Don't encourage him."

"Hey, it's about time," John said.

"Is it?" Rodney asked miserably.

Sheppard looked at McKay and then Beckett and realized that, no, it probably wasn't. Rodney's internal clock and naturally anxious sensibility never seemed to let him get the amount of sleep he wanted, needed or deserved.

"Oh. Sorry. Guess not. But you're just in time for another joke."

"Oh goody."

"How are ye feeling, Rodney?" Dr. Carson Beckett asked his newly admitted patient.

"Crappy, which is actually better than before. What happened?"

"Food poisoning, I'm afraid. A batch of power bars. Luckily, you had hoarded all of the chocolate peanut butter from the Daedalus run three months ago."

"Three months? Wait a minute. How would you know I hoard…" McKay stopped, though it was too late – he'd already implicated himself.

"Yes, McKay," Sheppard began. "We found your stash in the locker behind Radek's desk, inside the large closet-like thing, way in the back. The one you took a bite from had a curious lot number: not another one could be found in Atlantis, and no one else had gotten sick. One other wrapper on your desk had the same lot number. There was nasty, Earth-based bacteria all over the rest of that power bar you were chomping on earlier."

The physicist started to turn green.

"That's enough, Colonel Sheppard," Carson warned. "I am curious why you didn't notice it when you tasted it," Carson queried in passing.

"I did. But I figured it was whatever they did to hide the flavor of today's lunch special messing with my taste buds."

Carson stared at him and then shook his head. "I'll never get over how someone so smart can do such dumb things."

"Gee, thanks Carson."

"So you're feeling better?" John asked anxiously.

Rodney looked to Carson Beckett, who was clearly not interested in his patient's best interests.

"Yes," he said reluctantly.

"So let me try a new joke on you."

"You won't be offended if I fall asleep?" McKay asked.

"I might be a little offended," John answered with big, sad eyes.

The pout was ridiculous. It was ridiculous how sexy it was. Boy was he in trouble. Rodney McKay was in big trouble. Rodney looked at John and he knew – absolutely knew – that depending on the joke he would be in trouble. His defenses were down, and his feelings for John Sheppard were…confusing, at best. And he really was tired, so he wasn't sure he'd have the will power to fight off the evil powers of one Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. Or rather, fight against his reaction to the man.

"Maybe I'll do the Our Gang joke. Oh wait, you guys don't know about Our Gang, do you?"

"No. We were both born in the backwoods. You know I'm just a dumb Canuck and Carson here, well, you know all about the sheep by now."

"Thank you, Rodney. I believe that what Rodney is trying to explain is, yes, we are familiar with the show and the characters. We do, on occasion, get blessed with the more high-brow entertainment in the Highlands," Beckett finished sarcastically.

"Vaguely," McKay added. "You need to know that lest you think that I spent any significant part of my youth watching that."

"No, Rodney. I would never think that. Besides, Jeannie gave us plenty to go on about how you spent your youth."

Rodney whined and groaned in response as he sank down in the bed.

"Here goes," John said.

"Carson," Rodney whined.

"Colonel, he may well fall asleep on you. But I promise I won't," Beckett noted, ever the good audience member.

"Okay. I can always do it for Rodney in private."

Oh god.

_Buckwheat and Darla were in school and the teacher asked Darla, "How do you spell 'dumb'?"_

_Darla said, "D-u-m-b, dumb."_

_The teacher said, "Very good. Now use it in a sentence."_

_The girl said, "Buckwheat is dumb."_

"_Now spell 'stupid'."_

_Darla said, "S-t-u-p-i-d, stupid."_

_The teacher said, "Very good. Now use it in a sentence."_

_Darla said, "Buckwheat is stupid."_

_Then the teacher called on Buckwheat and said, "Buckwheat, spell 'dictate'."_

_Buckwheat stood up and said, "D-i-c-t-a-t-e, dictate."_

_The teacher replied, "Very good. Now use it in a sentence."_

"_I may be dumb and I may be stupid, but Darla says my dictate good."_

Carson chuckled heartily. "That's funny, though I feel a little bad laughing at it."

"Don't. It's how he talked. And it's funny. What'd ya think, McKay?"

Rodney was thinking that he wanted to shoot his traitorous dick, which was for some unexplained reason feeling all chipper over that dumb joke. He couldn't let his friends see that, so instead he turned onto his side, curling his legs up slightly and said in his best, whiny mumble, "Don't feel good."

Carson frowned and walked over to McKay. He felt Rodney's forehead gently while his patient tried to squirm away.

"He does feel a little warm. And he looks a little flush," he noted as he watched John Sheppard's intense expression. Carson thought it nice to see the colonel's concern after all the turmoil in their lives this last year. "Rodney, do you want some Compazine?"

"No," he answered sadly. "Just wanna sleep." And get myself that well-deserved Emmy Award for best performance by a loser scientist who is feeling things for someone he could never have.

"Okay, lad. You'll feel better when you wake up."

Rodney doubted it.

"Feel better, McKay," John said, massaging Rodney's arm affectionately as he left.

Rodney McKay knew that he'd been lucky getting away with that; the flush of his skin at his uncontrollable penis' happy dance had almost given him away. He was lucky that Carson had mistaken it as a symptom of his illness.

McKay stewed, wondering what he would have to do to fight these feelings. There was no way John Sheppard, of the United States Air Force no less, was interested. Rodney didn't even know if he was really interested, for real.

Were these feelings real?

What was wrong with him?

**THE PUNCH LINE**

McKay was released from the infirmary the next day. Beckett told him to take it easy for another day or so. That was one instruction that Rodney had every intention of following; he was still surprisingly tired from the food poisoning episode. Besides, it would give him a good excuse to steer clear of John Sheppard.

"Hey, McKay!"

What? Was he wearing a flashing 'Here's McKay' sign on his back, with a big arrow?

HERE'S McKAY

Make that TWO arrows, and in larger letters:

**HERE'S McKAY**

Or maybe he was emitting a special EM signature? Did he smell?

"Colonel," he said tiredly as he continued to his quarters with his cup of coffee.

"Is that really the healthiest thing for you right now?"

McKay looked at the cup, seeming a little confused by the question. He shook his head disgustedly, handed the cup to Sheppard, and said, "Probably not."

John walked behind Rodney into McKay's quarters. He hadn't been invited, but the scientist hadn't turned and asked him to leave, either.

"Still not feeling good?" John asked as he tossed the coffee down the bathroom sink.

Rodney sat on his bed. "No."

"Maybe I could make you feel better," John offered.

"Oh, no," McKay complained, plopping his head down on his pillow. "Not another joke."

"Hey. Definitely offended this time."

Rodney looked up. "This time?"

"Yes." John looked at McKay skeptically. "I'm sure you don't remember."

"Remember what?" Rodney asked, looking very confused and not a little irritated.

"You weren't in the best of shape for my last two stand-up attempts. I guarantee you'll like this one," Sheppard said, sending a slightly strange and definitely unusual wink McKay's way.

"Guarantee, huh? What, are you planning a bunch of naked, hula-dancing girls to distract me?"

"Oh, very funny. No, just a joke. I think you'll like the punch line."

"Fine, but is it okay if I close my eyes?"

"Um, actually, no. It will be short, I promise. And there is a certain visual nuance to it."

"A 'visual nuance'?" Rodney asked with disdain.

"Just keep your eyes open. You can decide for yourself if it was worth it later."

Frustrating, all this cryptic talk, though as Rodney read between the lines he wondered…no, that was just wishful thinking, both on his part and on the part of his dick, which once again seemed to take an uncommonly keen interest in the current proceedings. Everything that his head was thinking and his heart was feeling was heading straight down…there.

Maybe that was all Rodney needed – a good fuck to get John Sheppard off of his mind, and other critical organs.

"Okay, I'll keep my eyes open. Let me prop myself up, because if I don't, I may be asleep hours before the punch line." Rodney plumped the pillow and tossed it up to the head of the bed, finally repositioning himself comfortably for the show.

"Are you insinuating that it feels like my jokes take hours to tell?" John asked, glaring in jest at his friend.

McKay didn't really want to answer that; he was enjoying John's company too much to give him a truthful answer. And the truth was, for any ears other than the colonel's, that his laid back, easy drawl was not really suited to joke telling, a razor-sharp mind and photographic memory notwithstanding.

"Just start," Rodney instructed snappily.

"Okay," John said with a smile. He always smiled just before starting. Maybe Rodney needed to re-think Sheppard's ability with a joke if he was always going to be the beneficiary of that beautiful smile at the start. "Here goes," he added.

_The first grade teacher was starting a new lesson on multi-syllable words. She thought it would be a good idea to ask a few of the children for examples of words with more than one syllable._

"_Jane, do you know any multi-syllable words?"_

_After some thought, Jane proudly replied with Monday._

"_Great, Jane. That has two syllables, Mon-day. Does anyone know another word?"_

"_I do! I do!" replied Johnny. Knowing Johnny's more mature sense of humor, the teacher picks Mike instead._

"_Okay, Mike. What is your word?"_

"_Saturday," says Mike._

"_Great. That has three syllables…"_

Sheppard looked over to McKay, who had in fact closed his eyes. He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

Rodney stirred slightly and said, "I'm listening."

"I know you are. I just wanted to make sure you were watching me for the next part," John said as he laid his hand softly on Rodney's t-shirt covered stomach.

McKay looked at the hand with a frown, not sure what was going on. But John wanted him to watch, and Rodney couldn't think of a good reason not to indulge in the activity.

"I am," McKay assured, his blue eyes bright with anticipation. Could this be what he thought it might be?

"Okay," John said quietly as he brought his right leg onto the bed pushing McKay's thigh over a bit. John was very close now, and Rodney was very not as uncomfortable as he thought he should be with the touch. In what seemed a far different tone of voice than before, Rodney wouldn't hesitate to call it 'seductive', John continued:

_Not wanting to be outdone, Johnny says, "I know a four syllable word. Pick me! Pick me!"_

_Not thinking he could do any harm with a word that large, the teacher reluctantly says, "O.K., Johnny. What is your four syllable word?"_

_Johnny proudly says, "Mas-tur-ba-tion."_

_Shocked, the teacher, trying to retain her composure, says, "Wow, Johnny. Four syllables." _

John leaned in closer, his hip pressing just barely against Rodney's hardening groin. John's eyebrows rose at the feel, at how hard Rodney was getting from his little joke, and a sly grin crept up on him as he continued.

"_That's certainly a mouthful."_

"_No, ma'am, you're thinking of a blow-job, that's only two syllables."_

Rodney huffed out a laugh, and then added as he kept his eyes glued to Sheppard's hazel depths, "Interesting choice."

John leaned in a little closer. "The joke?" He was so close to Rodney now that in order to avoid developing a headache from his eyes crossing, the scientist was forced to watch Sheppard's lips in place of his eyes.

That was okay, too.

"Yes," Rodney panted, feeling his cock pushing against his pants. "Yes, the joke."

"I chose it just for the occasion," John offered, not giving Rodney any space back.

"Th…th…the occasion?" McKay asked.

John wriggled his hip to try to get better contact with the ever-increasing bulge in Rodney's pants. "I thought it was a creative way of getting my point across," he said as he shifted his body up, placing his right leg over McKay's legs, passing the side of his knee against Rodney's groin. McKay pushed up from the bed, ever so slightly, but it was enough for Sheppard to notice. His knees were on either side of Rodney's hips now, and they were both able to see more of each other with the distance. Much more. John's cock was now filling what little available space had been in his BDUs.

Now wasn't '_that'_ impressive? Underwear couldn't hide the contours of his manhood. Wait…the colonel wasn't wearing underwear?

McKay moved his eyes from Sheppard's crotch, quickly but reluctantly, and back up to the colonel's face. His own face contorted a bit, confusing John momentarily, and then realization blared from Rodney's expressive visage.

"Point. Yes," McKay stalled briefly, looking around the room and wondering if the door was locked.

"I locked it," John answered the unspoken question helpfully. Rodney looked back to the handsome face.

"Oh. Good," he said, and then, not sure what to say next he added, "Thanks."

John leaned close again, their positions now such that his hardness was pushed up against Rodney's own. He whispered into McKay's ear, "You're welcome." He pulled away again and looked at Rodney with what could only be called major fucking lust.

John Sheppard was looking at him, Rodney, Meredith Rodney McKay, with lust. Rodney McKay, genius Canadian astrophysicist, had John Sheppard looking at him. Like that.

"You, you, um," Rodney stuttered. "You," he shook his head a little, as if he was trying to be sure that he was really awake. "You said you were making a point?" McKay asked.

"Yes, I am," Sheppard answered. He pushed his cock hard into Rodney's as he leaned his face up next to McKay's ear once more. "I saw what happened yesterday," he whispered seductively. "You fooled Carson," he added, licking Rodney's ear and receiving an appropriate sounding whimper in return, "but you can't fool me."

Rodney turned his neck to the right, baring more skin and offering it to John willingly, and John took it, kissing and sucking and licking, and doing it again and again and again until he finally came up for air.

"How you doin'?" the colonel asked.

McKay closed his eyes and looked like he was counting. After what Sheppard figured was a count of ten, Rodney opened his eyes and said, "This is real?"

"Yep," John confirmed, smiling. He pushed his arms off the bed and stayed on his knees over Rodney. He pulled his t-shirt off and then went down to kiss McKay's mouth, which was hanging open, a clear and present invitation if Sheppard ever saw one.

Rodney started talking before they had really ended the kiss.

"Thith i a lil' s'prithing," he worked out around John's tongue.

"Yeah? You didn't see it coming?" John asked as he got up to his knees again and started working McKay's t-shirt up to his neck and then manhandling it over his head, leaving Rodney's soft, receding hair a sweet, swirling mess.

"No. Honestly, no I didn't." McKay was glad for the conversation. Slowing things down would give him at least a fighting chance of getting one more day out of these sweat pants. All he'd done is walk from the infirmary to the cafeteria and then to his quarters. He'd hate to have to wash them just because he got some semen all over them.

On second thought…

"Come on," John said with great enthusiasm. "Let's get naked!"

Rodney was frowning and trying to stifle a grin at the same time as he watched John work his way out of his clothes. An enthusiastic lover John Sheppard would be. But was this right? Should they do this, get involved in this way? Wasn't this just asking for trouble, even if it was something that he obviously wanted? There was so much trouble to deal with in the Pegasus Galaxy, why add this complexity to the mix? But he had been thinking about Sheppard a lot lately, and the rest of his body was clearly in agreement with all that was going on in his mind. But there was the colonel's career to think about; was it fair to allow him to risk that on this? Not that this wasn't worth the risk to Rodney. Way worth the risk. And it was pretty evident that Sheppard was willing to take that risk, too. But what would happen…how horrible would life be if John was shipped back to Earth because of…

"Yo! McKay!" John yelled, looking into Rodney's eyes to assure that he had the scientist's attention. "Over-thinking. It's a bad idea. I tried it for a while. Didn't like it." Rodney looked away briefly, but John wouldn't allow it, forcing McKay's face back to his with a firm but gentle hand.

"I'm not going anywhere, Rodney."

McKay looked into those eyes. He'd have to prepare a list. Two lists, pros and cons, for this important decision. He doubted it would end up going his way – he didn't usually end up getting the girl, or in this case, the guy.

"Hey!" John yelled again for Rodney's attention. Sheppard was completely naked now. Gorgeous, gloriously naked. "Little Johnny wants to play," he said as his erect penis waved and bobbed anxiously. Well, John was holding it and waving it at Rodney. It seemed to bob in excitement all by itself.

You know what? Fuck the lists!

The End.


End file.
